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char_spike-cuteboy
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char_spike-cuteboy
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Cuteboy
-----------
- cute
- Armenian
- friendly, good-natured
- calm? needs to be at least a strong quality before prota will give him any attention.
- religious. wants to do good. gaia-ist?
- divorced parents. lives with father.
- mother is religious, father wants him to pay attention to money.
- does tai chi and meditation
- idealistic
- doesn't want to think anything bad about anyone
- assumes the best, excuses bad behavior
- "everything happens for a reason, it'll all work out for the best." attitude
- has no excuse for why he thinks ill of his father? self-hatred for
thinking ill of his father? ignores the contradiction of thinking
ill of his father? how does he deal with the conflict in his
philosophy and his relationship with his father?
- good friends with Sarah, the Twins
- [what is he interested in/good at?]
[Prota stops coming to classes for a few days, Cuteboy freaks out.]
[his cause: what is the best future? prison reform? trying hard to
skew that as an existential risk. how does he decide to champion this
cause? what are his personal motivations for it?]
[Father tries to pry him away from the Corps with Opportunities]
Math class ended, and as Cuteboy got up and surreptitiously checked
his phone's info stream he was surprised to see a call had come in
during class. His dad. The summary text claimed he was "...late to
lunch.", but he knew that it would be mistaking his father's constant
tone of irritation as him missing a pre-planned event. No, Cuteboy
guessed his father would be coming to town this weekend. He pressed
play anyway.
"Cuteboy, this is your father," the earbud repeated. "I rearranged my
flight to drop me in TownCity tomorrow on my way to give a
presentation at Business Conference in NorthWardCity. It'll make me
late and I'll have to miss the keynote, but I would like to take you
to lunch. I'll pick you up at one."
Great. He'd have to skip shop class, which he was looking forward to
watching Prota in, but he knew there was no changing his father's
schedule. He sighed and thumbed over to accept the calendar event his
father had also sent him.
...
He got to lunch just in time to notice his father calling him. As he
picked up, he heard the sound of traffic in the background. "Where are
you, Cuteboy, I've been circling for ten minutes?" His father said,
angrily.
"I'm sorry, I was closer to the restaurant than home after class. I'm
here now." Cuteboy shook his head at forgetting to let his father know
not to pick him up, but it wouldn't have helped anyway. He waved two
fingers to the waiter before seating himself in a booth.
"Well that's just great. Order me a sandwich while I find somewhere to
park, will you?" His father hung up before he could say anything.
He puttered on his phone, checking all the comms services to see what
his friends were up to. Party invitations mixed with school complaints
and petty fights and illnesses. Nothing particularly interesting, so
he turned it to the homework he'd just been given. He liked to figure
out what he had to do as soon after a class as possible.
So he was engrossed in his latest assignment when he noticed all of
the waiters stopping and turning toward the door. "Great", he
thought. "Dad's here." Sure enough the man loomed over the entranceway
like a bear in the night, his presence felt by everyone. After a
moment of surveying the restaurant, seeming none too pleased, his
father strode over to the booth and sat, somehow seeming to take up
most of Cuteboy's field of vision.
"Are you so incompetent that you can't even follow directions, now?
Are they even teaching you anything?"
"Dad, sorry, I'm just busy. I had lots of homework to do last night.
I'm missing class right now, and so I had to make up what I would be
missing." A little bit of a white lie, but plausible, and one that
cast Cuteboy as having made a sacrifice to meet today.
"Oh, you're missing a lesson on how to feel superior? I'm sad you'll
only be missing one."
Their food arrived then, which mercifully pulled his father's
attention for a moment. The plated sandwich apparently met muster, as
his father spilled on the customary centimeter-thick paste of
condiments without so much as sniffing at the now-buried contents.
Two bites in, his father takes a break, seemingly softened as he
starts in. "Look, sorry, it was a long flight. I'm sorry you had to
miss a class today. I'm sure it was an interesting subject and you're
having lots of fun with these classes, and working hard. I don't doubt
you're doing well, but this school isn't everything there is, and you
could be doing a lot more interesting and better work than they have
to offer here."
Cuteboy suspected this was just the prelude to being manipulated.
[[Offer of awesome internship.]]